


please come back to me

by yoursunny



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Character Death, M/M, Pain, Sad Han Jisung | Han, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:08:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27027847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yoursunny/pseuds/yoursunny
Summary: Leaves, wet under the soles, crumbled into incomprehensible shreds as he leisurely walked towards the cemetery, the ornate path to which was engraved in his memory.
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 2
Kudos: 23





	please come back to me

Jisung walked along the flimsy sidewalk with his frozen hands in his pockets; his slender body shook with the wind blowing through his bones. It was late autumn, November with cold fingers sneaking through the gloomy cashmere coat, forcing the skin to be covered with a fine scattering of goose bumps; this month was much colder than usual, and it made a special sense for the guy. The soul of the young man was sewn up with a blunt needle into small pieces, fear with sticky hands bound his heart into a cage, and a feeling of loneliness sweeps behind his sternum in a cold stream.

Leaves, wet under the soles, crumbled into incomprehensible shreds as he leisurely walked towards the cemetery, the ornate path to which was engraved in his memory. A naughty breeze blows silky strands of dark hair, pale lips compressed into pinstripes, and Jisung's nose was slightly pink from the cool air. Soon a marble tombstone appears in front of him.

This stone stood out from the rest, because it was completely untouched by the merciless time: fresh white lilies, slightly bent over due to the strong wind, stood in fresh soil. This quiet place looked pretty decent and presentable thanks to the young man who came to this grave every three months. Jisung, not caring at all about the price of his expensive trousers, kneels down on the chilled ground, staring blankly at the marble tombstone and reading the engraved inscription on it with his lips. He felt so lonely and devastated throughout this year: his eyes are always irritated from lack of moisture - Han cried bitterly every dark night, meeting anxious members with red puffy eyelids in the morning. The younger, on a subconscious level, felt his internal clock stop, the second hand shattered into a thousand pieces when Bang Chan, with a straining voice, tells them that Lee's private plane had landed on the runway improperly - maintenance specialists were not honored to check the aircraft engine. As a result of which in a heavy downpour and thunderstorm, it caught fire. Airplane including.

\- No one alive. Not the pilot, not the people from our organization, not ... - Christopher hides his pale face with a shaking hands and immediately exhales - not Minho. 

Jisung fixes his gaze on the snow lilies and indulges in dizzying memories: how he first draws more air into his lungs and immediately forgets to breathe, how he looks at others with fear - they are paler than these pearl lilies, his mouth continues to open and burrow, tearing out of his throat only with incomprehensible sounds, similar to loud and painful sobs, when he first jumps on cotton feet and, with all his rage and hatred of the world, knocks over a massive glass table on the laminate floor and a loud sound of broken glass - only the table did not break, and the youth's heart is broken; splinters with jagged edges pierce the heart, and glass dust behind the breastbone is carried by a piercing wind

Through the prism of emotions and deafening thoughts, he hears Felix asking him to calm down in a broken voice, and it seems that he managed to put him in his place, but Jisung again jumps up, as if stung, and for a second loses the ability to stand and falls to his knees. 

" Jisung, sun, stand up" - Changbin grabs the exhausted body by the wrist and pulls it towards him, inhales the smell of menthol from the strands through his nose and tries to calm down from the rolling hysteria.

"In our group, there was always only the sun. He will never shine on us again, do you understand?" - Jisung screams again and looks into his hyung's hackneyed gaze, - "He will not perform with us, he will not have dinner with us, I will never feel the warmth of his skin on mine, I will never see his beautiful smile, kind eyes and .." - Han sobs loudly, his face reflects a grimace of boundless pain and disappointment, - "Hyung, please tell me that he is alive, that he will now knock on the door and come to me ... alive, healthy...real."

The corners of Changbin's plump lips tilt down as he tries to squeeze out a smile, but it gets too shitty. The old man only grasps a strong body tighter, squeezes it tighter in a bear hug and periodically inhales his dark hair, shaking his head negatively.

"Sorry, Jisung." - They gather in a bunch of eight people and hug each other, as if they find their only salvation in each other.

"Hi Minho hyung ... sorry, I'm five minutes late,” - Han said hoarsely. He quickly apologized for his voice, but was greeted with dead silence. “I… reread your last message again.” - The cold metal grips knotted fingers and grips the pen tightly. He fixes her sad brown eyes at the gloomy sky dotted with black crows, and grins with the corner of her lips. "You know, hyung, a lot has changed since you left ... Bang Chan and Felix are now together. I think I owe you these ten dollars, don't I?" - He took his right hand out of his pocket and put the money on the damp ground. "They're a good couple, as you'd expect ... You were right as always, hyung, but that's not news to you, is it?" 

Again he was greeted by thick silence.

"A year later, I still cannot come to terms with the fact that you are not with me. I hope it doesn't hurt you that I sleep in your room every night and wear your favorite T-shirt? Han chuckles slightly, but at the same moment his face darkens. "Sorry hyung, I didn't care about you the way you ... you cared about me. I shouldn't have been writing songs and sitting in the studio all the time, I shouldn't have ... "Jisung's voice breaks into a thousand pieces as he quietly whispers, almost with his lips,"

Please come back to me. I miss you so much.

The younger chuckles hysterically at how pathetic he sounds. 

“I need you like oxygen, Minho. I know it's my fault ... But I'm fixing it, hyung! I don't want to put up with the fact that you are somewhere deep underground, and I will never see you again. He rolled up the sleeves of his cashmere coat, under which there was only one cotton T-shirt. It was Minho's shirt, which was the main thing for him. Goosebumps ran down his pale hand, clogging his body with the cold and a little fear he felt. Jisung brought the small knife to his wrist, still looking up as if he had to look the hyung in the eye. - I love you so much hyung.

These were the last words Jisung said. He brought the blade to his wrist and made several cuts along its length, adorning the pale skin with ornate crimson lines. 

He didn't feel anything anymore. 

Hot tears ran down the young man's cheeks. Was he so numb at the loss of Minho? The answer is yes. He made long and deep cuts on his wrists. He did not dare to whimper or make any sounds, but he cried. It was an excruciatingly dull cry; his tears crashed against the skin of his wrists, mingling with blood.

Han lay down on dry, wet grass, dropping his knife. He buried his nose in the grave and tried to press against his shirt, which still smelled faintly of his friend, and closed his eyes. He was bleeding. He felt colder to the bone than before. A slight smile touched the young man's lips as he passed out from blood loss, his thoughts were only about the elder.

...see you soon minho-hyung


End file.
